


Ghost Kings and Graveyards

by Red_Arting



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Ghost OC, Mythomagic (Percy Jackson), Nico is happy and healthy, Sam is curious, The Ghost King, dean is so done with the world, graveyard, takes place after BOO, the winchester bros, will is mentioned but not present
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 12:13:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18872998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Arting/pseuds/Red_Arting
Summary: Dean Winchester has seen some weird shit on hunts. But he could say a fifteen year old playing Mythomagic cards with an impaled ghost while snacking on McDonald's fries definitely reached the level of “What the actual Fuck” in his book.ie: The Winchester brothers run into the ghost king playing mythomagic with his ghost friendie: Dean is done with all this god nonsense





	Ghost Kings and Graveyards

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after Blood Of Olympus, Nico is finally getting the happy ending he deserves with Solace. Takes place around season 11 but no spoilers or anything.

Dean Winchester has seen some weird shit on hunts. But he could say a fifteen year old playing pokemon cards with an impaled ghost while snacking on McDonald's fries definitely reached the level of “What the actual Fuck” in his book.

It had been a normal hunt so far, three recent hauntings with witnesses claiming a blood-soaked ghost had “attacked” their children with everything from wooden block towers to broken lego pieces. Nothing the brother’s couldn’t handle and both were anxious to get out of their own heads, so they’d packed up their equipment and booked it to Ohio

The eldest Winchester whined annoyingly, claiming that they could burn the body in the morning and enjoy a dinner of greasy burgers instead, but Sam annoyingly rolled his eyes and told him to “get in the damn car”.

Though Dean grumbled, he begrudgingly slid into Baby. Sam began rambling about the case, saying how hauntings here have been occurring for decades, all around children.

“And get this, Nancy Edwards was stabbed in the old house on Dalton Street, no one knows by who. Died playing with her raggedy ann dolls in ‘41, buried in the town cemetery”

“I’m guessing that’s where we’re headed”

“Bingo”

Dean sighed. All he wanted was a damn burger.

\--

The Winchesters slammed their car doors shut in unison, the eldest gripping a shotgun full of rocksalt and the other with a duffel bag of shovels and gasoline. Throwing up the Chevy Impala’s trunk, Dean grabs another rock-filled gun, tossing it to his brother, before grabbing a pack of lighters.

Though the town of Hartford, Ohio was quite small, it’s cemetery was not. It seemed as if the area had been around for centuries, if the crumbling headstones with unreadable engravings were anything to go by. Finding some dead kid from the late ‘40’s wouldn’t be as easy as they hoped. 

Sam began scouting the cemetery, shotgun in hand as he scanned the engraved (pun alert) grave stones, some with wilting flowers placed at their feet. Dean stomped along after him, boots digging into the soggy dirt. He wondered absentmindedly if rain was on the way again.

And then there’s a voice.

Dean ducks behind the tombstone he had been deciphering moments before, finger on the trigger. He peeked behind the weathering stone, making out a soft glow around a group of graves.

As he sneaks closer to the glowing source, the voice becomes clearer. Or should I say, voices.

“Your Hydra lashes in for the kill, heads snapping, fire spewing from its mouth, when suddenly, my Manticore leaps from the trees above, feet pounding against the scorched grass, tail poised for the attack”

“The monsters standoff”, the voice says dramatically. “The Hydra’s heads swivel around the manticore, matching it with the fire power of a roman army as the hybrid’s scorpion tail pierces through the monster’s rigid scales. The hydra falls into a heap, the poison rushing through its body in seconds. +500 attack power, and your line of defense is shattered”

Dean’s eyebrow shoot up. What the hell was this, LARPING?

He peeked over the crumbling gravestone and honestly, he’s seen weirder.

A scruffy boy sat perched upon a rotting memorial, clad in a dirty orange T-shirt , patched-up aviator jacket, and jeans with more rips than should even be allowed. Across from the manic, grinning teen was a ghost. At least, he thinks so.

Opposite of the boy was a glowing figure, looking as if she walked straight out of Casablanca with her short curls and knee-height, patterned dress. But unlike the other hundreds of ghosts that Dean had encountered, the specter was perfectly intact, no decaying skin nor raggedy clothes. She could have been alive, if not for the whole, you know, glowing and transparent thing.

“Incorrect”, the ghost glares at the teenage boy and he only grins in return. What the actual hell. “My Hydra has 2,000 defense plus shield spells for five turns, blocking your Manticore’s three thousand attack power”

Spread across the grave, Dean noticed, lay piles of glittering cards and clumps of figurines. Each of the teens, as yes, Dean concluded, the ghost was too on the young side, held a hand of said cards, even the ghost. A ghost who could interact with objects is one thing, but a ghost who can hold object for a period of time? Dean swears, this just got a whole lot harder.

The odd pair of teens glared at one another, not seeming to notice the Hunter slowly creeping up behind them, shotgun stuffed with rock salt at the ready.

“Excuse you, my Manticore has +1,000 poison tips, your defenses can’t-“

A loud bang shatters through the graveyard and rock salt shards crack against the monument . The eldest Winchester stood poised only a meter from the group. His eyes widened as the ghost only seemed slightly annoyed at their interruption, no fear of the salt whatsoever.

Dean grabbed for his iron rod. The teenage boy goes back to the game, ready to ignore the annoying mortal who was stupid enough to interrupt them.

“As I was saying, your rickety +2,000 defense does nothing against poison, especially with the extra agility of the-“

The ghost king is cut off once again as an iron rod slashed through his associate, much to both of their distaste.

“Could you not”, The ghost glares at the confounded mortal, menacingly gripping her Athena figurine as a weapon. “I’m in the middle of winning right now”

“Winning my ass”, the half-blood guffaws, throwing down his hand of cards. “That Hydra is the only thing keeping my legion of God’s from annihilating your army!”

Dean stood there, flabbergasted at the arguing teen and ghost, and yes a ghost, it had to be. Though the iron head done little but annoy the specter, it had gone straight through it. Yet they still held a figurine angrily with ease.

The Winchester scraped his mind for any journal entries of another transparent monster, one who had weakness and hopefully, a way to die. If they weren’t already dead, that is.

The pair continued arguing, as if he wasn’t standing wielding a quite threatening shotgun. Well, apparently not as threatening as he thought.

Though still feeling quite uncomfortable and weary of the entire situation, Dean decides to inspect the boy, trying to decipher any signs of supernatural powers.

The fact that he was hanging out with what (he thought) was a ghost, his mind went straight to witch, or even a necromancer. He craned his neck, searching for herbs or demonic books, anything that could link him to a coven, but all he could identify was a deck of weird gaming cards and , much to his confusion, a large collection of Happy Meals.

The kid himself looked, well, like a kid. He reminded Dean of a young Sammy, of the kid who woke up early to get to school early and spent afternoons at the library instead of partying and hunting like Dean had at his age. The boy could have been one of those emo weirdos who’d smoke cigs in the back of the school in movies, if not for the bright orange shirt. And his eyes, they looked so familiar…

“Step away from the kid!”

All heads swivel to a glaring Sam Winchester, hair flowing dramatically in the night wind, his gun pointed sternly at the specter. Both teens looked affronted, the boy at being called “kid” and the ghost at being interrupted once again, just as she was pulling out the game manual to settle their bickering.

“I said step away from the kid!”

The boy rolls his eyes. “Can you honestly not-”

A bullet of rock shatters next to the pair. The ghost glares. 

“Can you stop with the whole rock exploding thing?!”

“Look”, the kid jumps to his feet. “I don’t know who the hell you are, but we’re in the middle of an important game-”

“Very important!”

“-so we’d appreciate it if you, I don’t know, left”

The brother’s stances didn’t waver.

“And enough with the guns”, the kid groans, gesturing absentmindedly. “So primitive”

The ghost chuckles. “Says the half-blood with a Stygian Iron sword”

“I’m not the one with bow and arrows”

“At least I have class-”

“Who the hell are you?!”. Dean racks his brain for any mentions of half-bloods, maybe vampires?, as he orders them angrily.

“The name’s Edwards, Nancy Edwards”, the ghost chimes. “And this”, she gestures to the boy, “is the ghost king”

Dean grabs for his flask of holy water stuffed into his pocket. “Sounds pretty demony to me ”, he whispers hastily to Sam.

“So, ghost king”, Sam begins. “What brings you to a random graveyard in Ohio”

“Um, boredom”, the boy says dramatically. “And Will won’t play Mythomagic with me cause he’s ‘working’ so I needed to find someone who’ll play with me”

This kid is unbelievable, Dean thinks, face spread with confusion. What the hell even is he?

“So if that’s all-“

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus-”

The ghost king sighs. “Well that’s just ridiculous”

“You know y’all sound like like idiots, trying to expel his ‘impure spirit’”, the Ghost smirks. “Don’t worry, Solace already took care of that”.

“Oi!”

Nancy the specter only shrugs in response. “Besides, some shitty latin incantations ain’t gonna cure his impureness”

“You’re one to talk”, the ghost king grumbles, and Dean is struck with how young he is. He’s a kid, a full grown, acting like his mom just grounded him, ‘it’s not a phase, real, kid. A demon in a teenage vessel wouldn’t be playing pokemon cards at 2 am, they’d be doing bidding, getting Crowley’s dirty work done.

But ghost king? Seemed a bit far fetched, but nothing was out of the question.

“So”, the ghost king grins, “are we done here? You two can go back to what, grave robbing I’m guessing, and go on your merry way”

“We’re not-.. We’re not grave robbing”, Sam sputters.

“Reeeeally?”, the boy chuckles. “Than what’s with the shovels?”

“Oh uh…”

“And the guns?”, the ghost adds.

“About that-”

“Wait”, Sam cuts him off. “You are Nancy Edwards, correct”

“Did I not literally just say that”

“As in the Nancy Edwards who was stabbed through the heart with a bronze tipped statue in 1941”, Sam clarifies.

“Well, if you’re bringing it up, than yeaaah”, the ghost sighs. She didn’t seem the least bit bothered at the mention of her demise. Almost comfortable with the thought of being dead.

Sam face goes calculating and raises his gun.

“Whoa there cowboy-”

“Why are you attacking children?!”, Sam yells

“If you’re talking about mr. dark and stormy over here, he’s hardly a ch-”

“Don’t play games with us”, Dean grumbles, raiding his shotgun in turn. “We’re here to let you go on. You don’t need to hurt people. You can move on”

Nancy chuckles. “Move on? Mate, I moved on decades ago”.

Sam’s shoulders sag. “So… you’re not out for revenge?”

“Revenge?” The ghost was flabbergasted at the thought of it. “Why would I want revenge”

“For you know-“

“The whole death thing”, Dean seethes.

“Oh, that”, Nancy says sarcastically. “Nah, it was bound to happen sooner or later”

“Than... why have you been attacking children?”, Sam questions, somewhat unsure. Now that he was getting a good look at the spirit, she looked nothing like the witness accounts had described the attacking ghost to look like. She didn’t even have an impaled object through her.

“Um, I haven’t, clear as that”

“If not her than...who?” Sam whispers mostly to himself.

“And how do we know you’re not lying, huh?”, Dean sneers. 

“Um, because I can’t”, she let out a snort of laughter. “I ain’t a daughter of Aletheia for nothing”.

“I’m sorry- is that supposed to mean something-“

“Wait, Aletheia?”, San interrupts. “Like the Greek goddess of-“

“Truth”, Nancy finishes. “Indeed”

“So much for being secret”, the ghost king grumbles under his breath.

“Oh please”, the ghost laughs. “They’re obviously not regular mortals, they can actually see me for Hades sake”

“You think they’re”, the boy gestures wildly to the sky. “Really?”

Nancy shrugs. “That or clear sighted, but my bets on kids of Ares”

“Naaah”, the ghost king smirks. “Tall guy is totally Athena’s”

“I’m sorry, what’s going on-“

“Shut it bird brain”, the ghost groans, interrupting Sam. “The adults are talking”

Sam, looking quite affronted at being told off, grips his gun tightly, his expression calculating.

“You mentioned the Greek gods”, he prompted. “What, are they back, are they..real?”

Honestly nothing would surprise him at this point.

“Oh, they never left, Bird Brain”. 

The ghost king snickers. “Unfortunately”, he says under his breath.

“So what”, Sam asks wide eyed. “What you’re saying is that the pagan gods are alive and kicking”

“And as horny as ever”, the teen finishes as thunder cracks through the inky night. Dean had expected rain but there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

“Yeah, I’m talking ‘bout you!”, the ghost king yells at the sky as streak of lightning cuts through the sky.

“You’re gonna get yourself fried”, the ghost grumbles though she’s grinning.

“Eh, I’ve said worse-”

“So you're actually the children.. Of gods. Like demigods. Like Heracles…?”  
The two teens exchange looks and Dean is struck with how much deep shit they’re in, if these weirdos were actually telling the truth.

Demigods? 

Not for the last time that night, Dean had wished he had chosen to ignore the case and really, really was craving that burger right about now.

“So, let me get this straight”, Dean says, narrowing his eyes. “You’re a kid of Aleta-”

“-Aletheia”

“Who's the goddess of truth-”

“Correct”, the ghost replies, crossing her arms.

“And all the greek gods are alive and kicking and all got...kids”

“Pretty much, yeah”

Dean needed a drink, quick. This was gonna be a long night.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed, please check out my other PJO crossovers if you're interested.


End file.
